Cinder and Smoke
by Lacertae Australis
Summary: "I saw God in her, Mello. And I don't even believe in God." Lucky arrives at Wammy's House to join the competition: with poor deductive reasoning skills and a hindering religious devotion, the Wammy boys aren't worried. But Matt and Beyond begin to see her in a different light, and that's something everyone should worry about. MattxOCxBeyond. Rated M for later chapters.
1. Arrival

"England is rather pretty this time of year, why don't you look out the window?"

My gaze shifted from the floor to the peculiar man beside me; dressed in a white shirt and a pair of loose jeans, he was crouched on the seat, resting his hands on his knees. I shook my head, returning my gaze to the black carpeting of the vehicle. However beautiful England might have been, it was nothing compared to my Gujarat.

"You don't talk much, do you?" He prodded, turning slightly towards me. His bare feet made sucking sounds as they shifted against the leather. I shrugged.

"There are only so many words in the world. They should be used wisely. And for scolding people."

"That's contradictory." I simply nodded, giving in and looking out the window to avoid his intense stare. The town flew by, blurred even further by the cloudy sky and light rain. We passed an epic, white-stone cathedral and I frowned, wishing I was passing Akshardham instead.

"Is there a temple here?"

"Not in Winchester, no." He said. I heard his shirt rustle, a sign of him moving as my frown deepened. "I believe there's one in Bristol and two in London."

"How far is that?"

"About seventy miles."

I sighed, pulling at the denim that coated my legs. Seventy miles was too far for me to trek each day, especially in both directions; I wondered when I'd next get to visit the house of my gods.

"Why do you keep picking at your jeans?" He asked, reaching towards me. Impulsively, I swatted his hand away.

I apologized for the reflex, returning my hand to my thigh. "I've never worn them before. I'm not used to it."

"There are a lot of things that you'll have to get used to living here, Lucky." I looked towards him, raising an eyebrow.

"Did you just call me Lucky?"

"Yes." He answered.

"My name's not-"

"I know that. At the orphanage, everyone is required to use a pseudonym. Yours is Lucky."

"I don't get a say in what I'm going to be called for the next six years?"

"Can you think of something better?" I bit my lip in contemplation, uncomfortable under his scrutinizing gaze. Quietly, I turned back to the window.

"Lucky's fine."

* * *

"This way."

We had pulled up to a huge, tan-brick building with a wrought iron fence. The odd man I had been riding with shoved his feet into a pair of tattered sneakers and slid out, heading towards the large gate. I picked my things up off my lap and quickly followed him.

It was night time, and despite the lamps lining the walkway, the courtyard of the building was extremely dark. I trailed closely behind him as he headed towards the entrance; there was no way I was letting myself get lost in this unfamiliar place so soon.

"What's your name?" I asked, realizing that, in the day or two that I had known him, it had never come up.

"L." He said, keeping his eyes forward. The rest of the walk was silent.

The mahogany door creaked open, revealing a well-lit, well-furnished atrium. Instinctively, I slipped off my shoes at the threshold, picking them up and carrying them inside. He did the same, but threw his carelessly to the side. He turned to me with a stern expression.

"Wait here." He pointed at my feet as he said it, like I didn't know what he meant. To prove that I did, I sank down to the carpet, crossing my legs and setting my things down in them. He turned away from me, ascending the left staircase and disappearing around the corner.

I hummed softly as I waited for his return, tugging absently at my white shirt. When L had come to get me, he hadn't let me bring many things along. He'd even made me leave behind the clothes I'd been wearing at the time. Drowning in a pair of his jeans and one of his white long-sleeves, I missed my usual clothing, but I tried to be thankful for what I had on my lap: if he had had it his way, I wouldn't have brought anything.

"Get back here Matt!" A voice howled from the hallway to my right, breaking my concentration. Not a second after, two boys tore into the room, the brunet in front carrying a shiny silver rectangle. The blond behind him looked murderous. I watched in amusement as he dove at the brunet, latching onto his waist and bringing him to the ground.

"Give it back!" The blond cried.

"Not until you apologize!" The brunet retorted.

"You still have five lives left in that stupid game!"

"It's _not _stupid!"

"You're going to melt it!"

As they wrestled for the silver rectangle, I made the mistake of letting out a giggle. Their eyes shot to me, and I immediately dropped my gaze.

"Who the hell are you?" The blond asked loudly, scrambling away from the brunet. I flinched at his volume, and they approached me. I watched my knuckles turn white as my grip on the mint cloth in my lap tightened.

"I asked you a question." His voice was severe now, and I looked shyly towards him, regretting it when I met his glare. The brunet slapped his head.

"C'mon, Mello, don't be so harsh!" He chided, flashing me a toothy grin. I felt myself relax slightly. "Pretty little thing must be new here."

The blond grunted as the brunet lowered himself down across from me, but begrudgingly followed him.

"What's your name?" He asked, folding his hands in his lap and leaning towards me.

"I'm Lak- Lucky. I'm Lucky." I answered, scowling internally at myself. I'd barely been there for fifteen minutes and I'd already almost blown it.

"I'm Matt!" The brunet bubbled, either missing the slip or ignoring it. He pointed to the blond next to him. "And this is Mello."

"Nice to meet you." I said, looking down again.

"So, how did you-"

"There you two are," a familiar voice interrupted, causing the three of us to look up. L stood behind them, trailed by a white-haired boy in pajamas and a boy who looked so similar to L that I assumed they were brothers. We stood under his gaze. "I see you've already met your newest competitor."

"Competitor?!" Mello cried. L nodded, and I noticed his doppelganger pull a jar from seemingly nowhere and pop off the lid. He stuck his hand into it and scooped up some of its contents. As he raised his fingers to his lips, he looked up at me, grinning when our eyes met. His were red, and I realized then that he wasn't related to the man in beside him.

"What happened to your face?" He asked suddenly, his voice full of glee. I frowned as he brought his fingers to his mouth, making a mess of himself as he licked the red substance from them. I figured it was some sort of jam.

"Beyond," L scolded, glaring down at the dark haired teen, who appeared very hurt. "Apologize."

"Sorry…" He muttered, bowing his head and slurping his hands. I felt my stomach churn at the damp noise.

"As I was saying," he continued, turning back to us. "Lucky is exceptionally adept at psychoanalysis, a skill which I find to be lacking in this group. That being said, her deductive reasoning skills appear to be quite poor, but her talent when it comes to chess leads me to believe that there is room for her to improve there."

"So she's lacking the one major thing needed to succeed you and she's still joining the competition?!" Mello yelled angrily, his hands clenching at his sides.

"You shouldn't be concerned, Mello," I interjected. "If you happen to win, won't you feel silly for getting so hot about the other runners now?"

The attention shifted back to me, and I regretted opening my mouth. Mello's face grew red and he hmphed, turning away from me stubbornly.

"She's right, Mello," L said. I imagined a twinge of pride in his voice but thought better of it as he continued. "You've already met Mello and Matt; this is Near, and this is Beyond Birthday," he said, pointing first to the white-haired boy, then to the jam-covered one. "The other runners."

"It's nice to meet you." I said, absently crossing one hand over my chest. When I noticed myself tapping my ring finger to my thumb, I forced myself to stop.

"Well," L said awkwardly, lifting a foot to scratch the opposite leg. "I guess I'll show you your room."

He turned unceremoniously and began to trudge up the stairs again. As I wove through the four boys to follow him, I heard them shuffling along behind me. Boldly, Matt pulled up next to me, folding his hands behind his head as we walked.

"So, where're you from?"

"Ahmedabad." I said, pulling my back pack closer to my chest. He raised an eyebrow.

"Where's that?"

"In India," an unfamiliar voice piped from behind us. I glanced over my shoulder to see Near reach up to twirl a lock of white hair around his finger. "I believe it's in the western state of Gujarat."

"That's right."

"Aren't you a little old to be carrying a blanket?" He posed, continuing to twirl his hair.

"It's not a blanket," I retorted, frowning. "It's a dupatta."

"A du-whatta?" Matt chimed, reaching for the mint material in my arms. I pulled it away from him.

"A _dupatta._ It's like a shawl. It was my ama's."

"Why'd you come here?" Mello asked, his voice a combination of anger and curiosity. I shifted uncomfortably under his probing gaze and turned forward to avoid it. Before he could repeat himself, a door to our left opened, and a rather round man with a white mustache and spectacles stepped out. He appeared quite old, and I remembered him being present during my trip. I had lost track of him when we got out of the car at the gates.

"There you are, dear," he said jovially, and I couldn't help but smile at him. "I've gotten a room ready for you, I hope it'll be to your liking. L, you can return to your duties, I'll take it from here."

"Alright," the peculiar man muttered, turning to me. "Welcome home, Lucky."

_This is not my home_, I thought bitterly, frowning as I remembered my flat in Ahmedabad. He reached out and roughly patted my hair, and, though it was awkward, I did not miss his attempt to show me kindness. I felt a grin tug at my lips. _But I think I can make it work._

* * *

Woohoo, a story! It's been a long time since I've posted something on here, mostly because I'm the type of writer that hates everything I put down moments after I've done it.

This is a story I want to toy with. It's obviously a bit AU-ish and will probably contain a little OOC-ness, but I just want to take a stab at writing something interesting and original that I can see all the way through. I've finally cracked down and plotted the entire story line (hooray!), but my goal here is to learn to be less hard on myself so that I don't end up feeling like I'm a terrible writer at the end of every chapter of everything I write. That being said, I would LOVE it if you guys encouraged me, and I don't mean that in a 'don't critique me I'm fragile' kind of way! I enjoy feedback of all sorts.

That's pretty much it for my rant. I really hope that you all enjoy this!

Much love,

Marie.


	2. Finger Food

I rose before the sun did the next day, and immediately showered. When I returned to my room, dressed in clean clothing, I wrapped myself in a dupatta and went to work.

I pulled the small shrine from my back pack and set it down beneath the window, placing my idol inside. Then, I withdrew a deep brass dish, which I set aside, and a metal tray, upon which, I arranged my deep*, my ghanta*, some incense, and three brass bowls, one of rice, one of kumkum*, and one of water. I placed a small standing lamp next to the shrine and struck a match, lighting the candle and the deep. As the sun rose, I worked through my rituals.

Towards the end of my prayer, I heard the door open. Whoever it was approached as I rang the bell and circled the tray in front of the deity.

"… What are you doing?" A familiar, monotonous voice came. I finished the circles and fanned the incense over the idol, then turned to L. As he crouched next to me, I circled the tray before him, fanning incense over him as well. He stared blankly at me as I set the tray down.

"My puja." I answered simply, blowing out the deep. "Why'd you come in here?"

"I heard a bell." His cryptic tone did not go over my head, but before I could inquire, he continued. "Come with me."

"Why?"

"Just do it."

We ended up in some sort of library, the walls of which were lined with countless leather books. A hook ladder leaned up against every side, and in the middle there stood more grand bookshelves, stretching from the floor to the ceiling. He led me down an aisle and plucked a book from the shelf to our left, then held it between his thumb and index finger and showed me the cover.

"Do you know who this is?" He asked.

"Freud?" I asked, squinting in the dim light. "Yeah, who doesn't?"

"Do you know how much scientific proof went into his theories?"

"None at all, really."

"So you could say his theories were just educated guesses, right?"

"Absolutely." I answered, watching as he replaced the book. "What are you getting at?"

"I consider Freud an exceptional practitioner of deductive reasoning," he continued. "He took the information in front of him and gave it a logical explanation. I see no reason why you can't learn how to do that, too."

I raised an eyebrow at him. "Freud's theories might not have had a lot of back up, but he wasa neurologist, so he did know some things about the brain. And his ideas must've stemmed from some sort of repetition that he witnessed in his patients. How am I supposed to come to a conclusion based off of a single occurrence?"

"Logic."

"I'm terrible at logic."

"Then how are you able to read people so easily?" I shrugged honestly, screwing up my face.

"I don't know! People are easy to understand-"

"So what's stopping you from understanding their actions as well?"

I stopped then, thinking about what he had said. I didn't really know why I was bad at logic; I thought that it might have something to do with my lack of drive in that area and my short attention span, but I wasn't sure. Maybe if I applied it to something I was good at, I'd be able to gain a new skill.

"Well, I'll try it," I said, adjusting my dupatta. "But I'm not making any promises. I don't think I'm the genius you're mistaking me for."

"My intuition is very strong, Lucky."

"So is my self-awareness." He gave me a small smile, pleasant with a little bit of creepy. I again pushed the delusion of pride from my mind.

"Well, that's all. You'll have a few days to settle in before getting to work. I probably won't be here when you do."

"Okay." I made to leave, but stopped after a few steps. "L?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you." I turned back and returned to him, crouching down in front of him and touching his feet. As I stood, I brought my right hand to my heart, taking his blessing. He awkwardly patted my head again, a 'you're welcome' gesture, and I left the room.

I felt his grin on my back.

* * *

As I passed my room in search of the stairs, I heard a thump from behind the door and rushed inside. I was furious to see Near before my shrine, patting out a small fire on the rug with one hand and clutching my idol with the other.

"What are you doing?!" I barked, stomping over and ripping the idol away from him. He looked up at me.

"Playing," he said innocently, reaching up to twirl a lock of his hair.

"These aren't toys!" I shouted. His face didn't move an inch. I took a deep breath so as not to pollute the sanctity of my prayer area and continued. "This is a shrine, Near. This is where I pray. Please don't touch it again!"

My voice rose angrily at the end and I bit my lip, dropping down to clean up the mess he had made. The standing lamp had been knocked over, spilling some of the ghee* onto the carpet, which had no doubt helped spread the fire and there was a large black mark where the flames had been. The holy water with which I'd bathed the deity had been used to put it out and I felt tears prick at the corner of my eyes at the sight of my kumkum scattered across the charred ground.

"You're distraught," he pointed out as I replaced the deity and bowed to it.

"Yes, Near, these things are important to me and you ruined them." I knew that I was being unnecessarily cruel, but I couldn't help it; I wanted him to feel how badly I was hurt.

"Watari can get you new things, you know." He said. I scowled.

"I could have guessed that. But these are things from my home. I-"

"This is your home now. You should get used to it."

"I know that! I-" I paused, realizing that no matter what I said, he would counter with something to belittle me. "Just forget it Near. Leave."

I saw him stand from the corner of my eye, noticing the splatter of red on his pants as he left the room. I let a tear drip off of my cheek when he was gone, sweeping the rice into my hand.

"Hey, Luck- what the hell happened in here?" I glanced up at the voice, seeing a shocked Matt move further into the room. I returned to my cleaning.

"Near happened," I said, sniffing.

"Hey, don't cry, let me help-"

"No," I snapped, grabbing his wrist as he made to pick up some stray grains of rice. He looked at me, stunned, and I guiltily pulled back my hand. "I'm sorry, I'm just really upset."

"I can tell," he said. He stepped back and sat down, keeping me company as I cleaned. "Did you want to talk about it?"

"There's not much to talk about," I replied. "He touched my stuff when he didn't even have permission to be in my room and destroyed it."

"What's so special about this stuff?"

"This is my shrine," I said. "It's got everything that I need to do my puja, my prayer, every morning. Everything here is sacred and shouldn't be contaminated, not even by bad feelings, which I'm having right now."

"How can I help?" I stopped cleaning to look at him, not believing a thirteen-year-old boy would actually be this kind. He looked completely serious.

"… That was just the help I needed. Thanks." I said, giving him a small smile. He shot back a bright one.

"In that case, how would you feel about hanging out?" He said. "I've got a GameCube and a couple new multiplayer games."

"… What's a GameCube?" His face filled with mock-horror and I almost laughed.

"Only the greatest gaming console ever invented! Do you not have video games in Am-ah-bed?"

"Okay, first of all, it's Ahmedabad, and second of all, the last video game I played was Pokemon Stadium at my cousin's house in Udaipur; I never owned any consoles myself."

"You have much to learn, little girl." I rolled my eyes but smiled.

"Then you better start teaching, old man."

* * *

"I don't like this game."

"Why not?"

"It's scary."

"Oh come on, it's not-" as if to prove my point, something popped up, causing me to yelp and throw the controller away. I covered my eyes. "-okay, maybe it's a little much for you."

"You think?" I jabbed. He started to reply, but my stomach growled, interrupting him. He laughed and I felt my cheeks warm up slightly.

"Hungry?"

"A little." He got off of his bed and turned off the console, then grabbed my elbow and pulled me off the floor.

"Come on, we'll get lunch."

Matt led me downstairs and into the huge dining room, where it appeared that lunch was going on. Kids dotted tables all over the room, shoveling food into their mouths. We loaded up our plates and started towards a table. As we walked, my eyes landed on Near, who sat alone in the corner and picked at his food. With a sigh, I made my way over to him.

"Where are you going?" Matt asked, following me.

"To make peace," I answered. "I was pretty mean to him before. He's upset."

"He looks like a piece of plywood," he replied incredulously. "He's not upset."

"Trust me, Matt, he's upset. If you don't want to sit with him, sit by yourself." He made a sour face and fell silent, continuing to trail behind me. Near didn't look up when we sat across from him, continuing to push rice around his plate.

"Near," I said, getting his attention. "It's okay. I'm sorry I was so harsh. You couldn't have known better."

He looked blankly at me, his free hand reaching up to twirl a lock of his white hair. He appeared to be contemplating something, and I could feel the "I told you so" building up in the brunet beside me as we sat in silence for what seemed to be quite a while.

"… And I'm sorry I played with your shrine." He said finally, stunning Matt. I smiled at the white-haired boy, diving into my food.

"What are you doing?" Matt asked as I lifted rice to my mouth. I froze, a few grains falling from between my fingers, and looked at him.

"Eating."

"With your hands?" I felt a pang in my heart, a sudden awareness of how far away from my home I was, and of how strange I must have appeared in this foreign place, full of all these foreign people. I dropped the rice back onto my plate and looked down at it, wishing I would disappear. My appetite waned.

From the perimeter of my vision, I saw Near put down his fork and clumsily dip his hand into his food, mashing it between his fingers before bringing them to his lips and licking off whatever was there. When I looked straight at him, I could've sworn I saw a grin pass over his lips.

"Who says rice can't be finger food," he quipped, continuing to eat that way. From beside me, Matt put down his fork and did the same.

I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat, shyly beginning to eat. I didn't think that Matt understood the acceptance he had just shown me, but I knew that Near did. I glanced at him as I chewed, flashing a small, grateful smile. He gave me a tiny nod.

Maybe Wammy's House would be okay after all.

* * *

I'm iffy about this chapter. There are parts I really liked and parts that I just couldn't tease out, but I'm going to forgive myself because overall I think it's not bad! Just to warn you guys, the next chapter might also be a little weak in spots, but bear with me! After that we have a time skip that gets us to the meat of the story and I think that things will get much better! Again, reviews are much appreciated, and I hope that you enjoy this chapter!

Love,

Marie

notes:

deep: an oil lamp, usually made from clay, with a cotton wick; its light is a symbol of knowledge, and it is used during prayer to see the god more clearly.

ghanta: a small bell, usually made of brass, used to ward off evil forces and summon the gods during prayer.

kumkum: a powder used for social and religious markings.

ghee: clarified butter typically made from cows milk; it is used as the oil in the deep and the standing lamp during prayer.


	3. Piaculum

"So, what _did _happen to your face?"

I was on the floor of their room, drawing, when Mello asked the question, hanging over the edge of his bed to look at me. I stopped briefly, the tip of my pen making a big dark spot in the middle of the line, then continued, ignoring him.

"Hey, I asked you a question." His voice was sharp and heated. I assumed that there was some part of him that was always angry; how else could he have such a short fuse?

"And I chose not to answer it." I heard him move, and in the next second, felt him push me up against the footboard.

"Why are you always so _guarded_?" He asked. I felt my nostrils flare tensely.

"Why are you always so _angry_?" I countered, flinching when his grip on my shoulders tightened. I turned my head to the side, my breath picking up as he leaned towards me. "Please stop."

"Please answer me," he mocked. I smelled chocolate on his breath as it washed over my cheek, a traitorous whimper escaping me.

"Mello, leave her al-"

"Shut up, Matt," he barked, pushing me over the edge. I shoved him to the floor and scrambled away.

"You want to know what happened?!" I shouted, feeling my chest heave angrily. "I was this close, _this close_ to being sold to a human trafficker! I fought back and he beat the crap out of me!"

His face fell, and he moved to say something, but I stomped out of the room before he could reply, slamming the door behind me. I'd been there for a few days and Mello had gotten angry about something on every single one of them. Was the chocolate he constantly snapped at getting to his brain or something?

"I'm sorry," a voice came from besides me, causing me to yelp in surprise. I spun violently and saw Beyond, jam jar in hand, staring blankly at me.

"Please don't sneak up on me like that," I said, putting a hand over my racing heart. "What are you sorry about?"

"That you got beat up." He put the jar in his pocket and slowly reached towards me, his fingertips brushing over my bruised cheek. I jerked away from his touch and continued down the hall. "Where are you going?"

"Outside," I answered, glancing at him as he fell into step with me. "I need some air."

"It's raining."

"That's okay."

"You'll get sick."

"That's okay."

"… You have quite the temper yourself, you know."

"I know, but at least mine's not constant. He's _always _got something up his ass."

Abruptly, he turned down a hallway, leaving me alone. I continued towards the entrance hall without pausing and threw open the front door.

It was ominous outside, to say the least; the sky was blanketed in black and the clouds crackled with lightening. Despite that, I stepped out into the torrential rain, walked to the middle of the courtyard, and looked up. In a matter of seconds, I was soaked. My anger subsided.

In the tranquil roar, the weight of everything that had happened over the past week crushed me.

From the death of my parents to being kidnapped and assaulted to abandoning my home, so much had changed and I had had so little time to digest it all. Against my will, I felt tears spill down my cheeks, and I bit my lip to keep from sobbing. I had suffered a string of terrible blows, and I was tired; recovery seemed like some far away town.

Memories bloomed in the back of my mind, the bright colors of Gujarat unfolding like a gorgeous play. My mother frying chilies in the kitchen and my father kneeling before our shrine, my closet full of ornate skirts and shirts and dupattas, my anklets jingling as I danced around the deep in our courtyard during Navratri, leading the garba at just twelve years old. A bustling bazaar, a vendor offering me malapua, another showing off a hand-embroidered tapestry. Akshardham at night, mighty and peaceful in its illuminated glory.

I longed for the comfort of my homeland. My tears fell faster as I realized that I might never feel its embrace again.

Just as I started to shiver, the rain stopped. When I opened my eyes, Beyond stood beside me, holding an umbrella over us. He wrapped an arm around my shoulders and I let him guide me back inside.

* * *

"You're an idiot, you know that, right?" I rolled over in my bed, away from the blond who'd just barged in. As Beyond had predicted, I'd gotten sick from my excursion; my throat burned and my fever raged, but I shivered beneath my blankets.

"Leave me alone." I rasped, crawling deeper into the covers. I felt it slip from my weak grasp as he pulled it off of me.

"What did you think would happen when you went out there?" He scolded. My teeth chattered as he lowered himself onto my bed. "Hello?"

"Please leave me alone," I muttered, drowsily swatting his hand away when he touched my back. "Please, Mello."

"Dude, come on, that's enough." I heard Matt say, pulling him away from me. "She's sick, couldn't you stop being an ass at least until she's better?"

The blond hmph'ed and I heard stomping, followed by the sound of the door slamming. I sighed in content as Matt pulled the blankets back over me.

"How're you holding up, Luck?" He asked, pushing some hair away from my damp forehead.

"I feel like death," I said. "My skin hurts."

He made a sympathetic sound and sat down next to me, petting my head. "Why'd you go out there?"

"To cool off."

"I know that's not the real reason." He said, giving me a meaningful look.

"… So much has happened in so little time, Matt. It's just a lot for me to swallow." I said, averting my eyes.

"I think it'd be good for you to get it off your chest." He said seriously. "You look… distraught."

"I don't know…" My breath hitched slightly as he leaned down next to me.

"I'm not going to tell anyone, Lucky," he whispered. "I promise."

* * *

When I woke up, Mello was sitting in a chair beside my bed, looking rather bored.

"Where's Matt?" I croaked, looking around for the brunet.

"Playing video games," Mello said, leaning forward. "You've been out for a couple hours."

"Why are you here?" He flinched at the malice in my voice, and I felt a little bad for being so harsh.

"I, um… Came to make peace," he said. Almost begrudgingly, he held out a silver-wrapped rectangle. I raised an eyebrow, not lifting my head from the pillow.

"What's that?"

"It's a chocolate bar," he said. "A peace offering. I didn't even lick it. In your religion, they give food offerings, right? That they haven't tasted? I looked it up. I know I'm normally supposed to cook something, but I don't want to get you more sick, so…"

Before I could stop myself, I burst into raspy laughter. He scowled and glared at me as I held my stomach. "What's so funny?!"

"Mello, we give food offerings to _gods_," I explained, containing my laughter. "It's called prasad; after we offer it, it becomes their blessing, and we take it in their name. Kind of like communion."

His face turned tomato red and he looked away, embarrassed and angry. I knew it had been difficult for him to make a peace offering, especially of something he coveted so aggressively. Before he could snap and ruin it, I reached out and grabbed the chocolate bar.

"But," I said, catching his attention. "Thank you. I accept your peace offering."

His blush faded somewhat, and he grinned, watching as I opened up the bar. I broke off half and handed it to him. As I bit into the sugary treat, the door slammed open, revealing a breathless Matt.

"Mello, you better not be mess- oh, you're awake," he said, grinning when he saw the chocolate in my mouth. "Are you guys getting along?"

"Yes, mother," I teased, rolling my eyes. He pouted and I patted the bed, inviting him in. He plopped down next to me and started to say something when a knock on the open door interrupted him. I felt tension seep from my company as I craned my neck to see who it was.

Beyond stood in the doorway, his sticky red knuckles glued to my door. He grinned brightly at me, ignoring whatever looks Matt and Mello were shooting him. I smiled.

"_Aey, raksaka_," I rasped, earning confused stares. I ignored them. "Come in."

He hummed thoughtfully, his eyes darting from me to Matt to Mello and back again. He shook his head. "I just came to see how you were doing, Lucky."

"I've been better," I said, shrugging weakly. "But I've been worse. You sure you don't want to come in?"

He let out a sharp laugh. "I'm sure. I might come back later, th-"

"I wouldn't," I heard Mello growl. I gave him an incredulous look. "I wouldn't if I were you."

"Calm down, Mello," I said. "That'd be nice, Beyond."

Without another word, Beyond backed out of the doorway and disappeared down the hall. The two boys beside me immediately dove into an uproar.

"What did you call him?"

"What does that mean?"

"You should stay away from him, Lucky."

"He's bad news."

"Why do you want to hang out with him, anyway?"

"He's a freak."

I put my hands over my ears, the volume of their rant causing my head to throb. Neither seemed to notice.

"Beyond is my friend!" My cry was weak and hoarse, and I had the feeling the following argument would sound weak to the two boys beside me. "He's been kind to me. Kinder than some people-"

"Hey!" Mello cried, crossing his arms as I shot him a meaningful look.

"My point is, I'm not going to throw him aside because you guys don't like him. Understood?"

"But-"

"_Understood_?"

Both boys donned begrudging looks, but I wasn't fazed; eventually, they huffed, crossed their arms, and glared at the wall.

"Fine." They harmonized. I rolled my eyes at their brattiness, but giggled.

"Good. Now, is there any way you guys could get me some chai?"

* * *

Another chapter! It's a little short and there's a lot of room for improvement, but I'm proud of the rate at which I've been getting these up, and of how diligent I've been with revising them before I post them! The next chapter should be up fairly soon, but for now, I hope you guys enjoy what's here! I'd love to hear your feedback!

Love,

Marie.

notes:

Navratri: nine-night festival dedicated to the worship of the goddess Durga.

garba: form of dance that originated in Gujarat; traditionally performed in a circle to represent the idea that time is cyclical, around a representation of the goddess, such as a deep or an idol, to symbolize that God is the only thing that remains unchanging while the universe churns.

malapua: pancake served as a snack or dessert

_Aey, raksaka_: Hey, keeper.


	4. Lessons

"You have nine pigs. You must construct exactly four pens and each must contain an odd number of pigs. How do you do it?"

I looked down; it had been almost four years since I arrived at Wammy's House, and despite seeing it every day, Near's stare still made me uncomfortable. His pen hovered over the tally sheet, waiting, protecting its spawn: four little red marks, each a reminder of a separate disappointment.

In almost four years, my logic hadn't improved much, either.

"Maybe…" I muttered, tapping my ring finger to my thumb. "Maybe kill five pigs?"

The pen scratched against the paper, slashing fluidly through from corner to corner, rounding my failure count to five. I frowned.

"Try again." Near said, resuming his initial position.

"I'm not going to get it, Near," I said, my tapping slowing down. I watched him reach up to twirl his hair.

"Try. Again." It was too monotonous to be mean; in his tone, it was just demanding. My frown deepened.

"My improvement isn't going to further you in the competition, Near." I said. He remained stoic; the only verification of my hunch was a slight widening of his eyes.

"I'm not sure what you mean."

"I know that L told you to tutor me, and I know that you think that my improvement under your supervision will make him more likely to choose you as his successor, but you're wrong," I explained. "L doesn't care who teaches me logic as long as I learn. He doesn't even really care who succeeds him, as long as he knows that whoever it is will protect the world as well as or better than he does.

"… Your point?" He asked, the slightest shift in his eyes again betraying his stoic air.

"Just, don't be hard on me when I don't get something. Or yourself, for that matter. It doesn't help either of us."

He fell silent, twirling his hair and staring blankly at me. He didn't blink for a long time and it made me even more uncomfortable. Then he stood and walked over to the toy chest at the end of his bed, where he rummaged for a minute with his back to me. When he returned, he held a slim black square.

"This is the Black Box," he said, setting it down on the floor before me. I noticed that each side was lined with seven little indents. "Inside there's a grid, where I've hidden three marbles. Tell me where they are."

"… Is this punishment?" I asked, sure that this box was some sort of torture meant to put me in my place.

"No." He answered plainly. "You clearly need something tangible if you're to improve. So here's something tangible. You have eight moves."

"I don't even know how to play this game!" I cried, resisting the urge to swat the box away from me.

"Figure it out." He emptied two boxes of dice onto the rug, ending the conversation. I groaned angrily and turned my attention to the puzzle.

It appeared that each indent housed a small light. Curiously, I flicked one of them on; it beamed through the box and appeared in the indent on the opposite side.

"Seven moves," Near reminded, not looking up from his growing tower. I shot him a brief glare, tapping my ring finger to my thumb again as I tried to figure out how this game was supposed to work.

_If the light goes straight through_, I thought, _then there can't be a marble anywhere in this row._

I thought about where Near, always so far ahead, would have placed the marbles; part of me said that he'd pick the hardest areas, like the corners, but another part said he'd choose something easy, like the center point, anticipating my initial assumption. Hesitantly, I hit a middle indent, grinning when no light appeared.

"Six moves."

"Would you stop that?" I asked. I flicked on the light that would bisect the center point, feeling immense disappointment when it reflected on the opposite side of the board.

"… Five-"

"Shut up!"

* * *

"How'd I do?"

"… You only found one, Lucky…" I frowned at his lackluster reaction, crossing my arms over my chest. I'd worked for an hour on the stupid game, I'd even figured out some of the objectives by myself, and he wasn't the least bit impressed.

"It's better than none." I said bitterly.

"Not by much."

Before I could burst and rip the little white genius a new one, someone knocked on the open door. Beyond stood in the doorway, slouching, grinning. I cheered up immediately at the sight of him.

"Emergency phone," he said, marching into the room. Near frowned at the intrusion but said nothing as Beyond grabbed my wrist and dragged me away. I waved at the white-haired boy before he was out of sight, content at the fact that he returned it.

"What's he calling for?" I asked, struggling to keep up with Beyond's long strides.

"Your people power," he said, swinging me to a stop in front of Roger's office door. He jabbed his index finger into my forehead. "Lucky logic."

"It's not logic," I said, pushing his hand away to hide my shock. L wanted _me _to help him with something? "If it was, I'd have a much easier time."

"It's your own version," he encouraged. "It makes you special."

"A lot of things make me special," I teased. He scoffed playfully and opened the door.

"Humility is apparently not on that list." I rolled my eyes, following him into the room.

"Ah, Lucky, there you are," the crotchety old man piped, gesturing to the chairs in front of his desk. A laptop faced them, an ornate black L centered on the white screen. "Please have a seat."

"Hello, Lucky," L's voice came, distorted by whatever modifier he was using.

"Hi L."

"How are your lessons?"

"Bad. The usual."

"Did Near give you the Black Box?"

I hesitated, feeling shame lap at me. "Yeah…"

"… And?"

"I found one marble!" He sighed, heavy and disappointed. I bit my lip to quell my emotions and felt Beyond shift behind me, gripping the back of the chair I sat in. I glanced up at him; his grin was still in place, but something was off. I felt my forehead wrinkle in confusion.

"I'd like your opinion on something." L's voice came again, bringing my attention back to the situation. "I'm sending you a video. Please explain it to me."

_Why does everyone here have a problem with context?_ I thought, watching as the video window popped up on the screen.

What seemed to be some sort of security tape began to role. It was a front view of a check-out line, showing the profile of the customer and the cashier. The customer's arms were crossed over his chest and he sported a sour expression. A cart rolled up behind him in the line and I noticed his mouth twitch ever so slightly.

"He's… A pedophile," I stated. The video paused.

"What makes you say that?"

"His mouth."

"… Explain."

"He's all sour until that cart pulls up. The lady pushing it eyes him, he sees that, you can see in the tape that he sees that, but he doesn't break character until the baby in the child seat- Aww, she's so cute! Look at those gorgeous little cheeks!"

"Lucky… Lucky!" L called, stopping my rant. "Focus."

"Right, sorry. Anyway, he does that little lip twitch thing, and then slowly lowers his arms. And that baby's all smiles when he does that and his lips twitch again!"

"So, how does that make him a pedophile?" Beyond asked. "Even you went a little ridiculous over her."

"It's what he does here that seals the deal," I said, pointing to the corner of the screen. He was almost out of the shot now and the woman with the baby was checking out, but there was a sliver of a small white screen in the corner. "That's his phone. He's taking a picture of someone else's baby. I'm pretty sure only pedophiles do that."

"How did you notice that?" Beyond muttered.

"I was looking for it." I answered with a shrug. "So, how'd I do?"

"Fairly well, all things considered," L said thoughtfully. I could practically see him bring his thumb to his lips. "You're dismissed."

"Wait, was I right?" I asked, yelping as Beyond pulled me out of my seat. "Did you get him? Is that baby okay?!"

I struggled against his grip on my bicep, failing to get away. He pulled me down the hall, towards his room, and I raised an eyebrow.

"I've still got lessons, Beyond."

"Not anymore you don't," he said. "We're playing hockey."

"You mean hooky?"

"Yeah, that."

He wasted no time setting up the chessboard on the window seat, and we began to play, taking incredible pains to calculate each move. As the game crawled to life, I felt myself relax; chess, especially with Beyond, did wonders for me.

It had always been difficult for me to understand why so many of the orphans disliked Beyond. Yes, he was weird, and yes, he could be a little creepy, but in a building brimming with genius, even I was hard pressed to find someone completely normal. On top of that, he was incredibly mild; always grinning, always placid. Were his eyes, bloody and sparkling, really enough to cause others to cast him away?

Near was constantly tensed in his presence, and neither Matt nor Mello could be around him for too long. Well, Mello couldn't really be around anyone for too long, but even Matt, the sweetest of my friends, grew aggravated when Beyond was around. I highly doubted that there was something that I was missing in the assessment of his character, and that only made all of the hatred he received more confusing.

"Lucky, can I ask you something?" I blinked slowly and turned my gaze to my friend, who did not look at me. His eyes were trained on his two black knights, situated two spaces in front and one space to the side of his king and queen.

"Sure."

"Have you ever hated L?"

I physically recoiled at his question, my face screwing up in confusion. "What?"

"Have you ever, just, hated him?" He looked up at me, an odd glimmer in his eye. I'd never seen that sort of look about him before, and I immediately felt worried.

"No," I said honestly. "My relationship with him is generally positive. Why?"

"Just wondering."

"Beyond," I pressed, reaching across the board and letting my hand hover over his king. He looked from my poised fingers to my face with a hollow grin. "What's wrong?"

He grabbed my hand and held it above the board, pressing our palms together. His hand could have swallowed mine if he wanted. He stared intently at them, curling his fingertips over mine.

"Sometimes I hate L," he said quietly. "A lot of the time."

The tension in his hand transferred to mine, accentuating the strained air he'd suddenly acquired. He wove our fingers together and squeezed my hand. His grip was too tight.

"Why?" I whispered. His gaze snapped from our hands to my eyes, sending an eerie chill across my back. His grip tightened on my hand as all of his normal emotion suddenly returned to his features, the genuineness returning to his grin. I bit my tongue.

"It's not important, Lucky." He reached over and gleefully knocked over my king, biting his lip to keep in his laughter. "I win!"

"You cheater!" I cried, choosing to play along with his sudden return to normalcy. I stowed the previous events away for later analysis as I flung the chess board from the seat, demanding that he pick up the scattered pieces. Our interaction returned to normal.

* * *

"I'm worried about Beyond."

From the other end of his bed, Matt snorted, not looking up from his Game Boy. "_Everyone _is worried about that psycho."

"I'm serious," I growled. "Something's wrong."

"Come on, Lucky," he said. "Psycho. I just said it. It's most likely true."

"He told me today that he hated L."

"You're worried about _that_?" He said, waving his hand absently. "That's normal. Near doesn't really like L either, and even Mello's not too keen on him."

I blinked, nibbling on my lip as I processed the information he'd just given me. He glanced up at my silence and sighed, pausing his game so that he could address me.

"Lucky, we're here to _succeed_ L, not _befriend _him," he explained, his gaze turning sympathetic as my eyebrows furrowed. "We're not really here to befriend anyone. Generally speaking, we're a bunch of freaks; most of us aren't capable of compassion on the level that you are."

I frowned, once again feeling out of place in the orphanage. Since my arrival, I hadn't been concerned with succeeding L; the fact that my life was a competition, and a fierce one at that, often slipped my mind. Every once in a while, something like this would happen, and I'd be pulled from my immersion in the life I wanted to live into the life I was actually living.

"Hey," Matt said, waving his fingers in front of my face. I came back to reality, noticing his concerned look. "You okay?"

"… I don't know, Matt." I said, looking towards the window. Outside, a pair of brown warblers flitted about, chirping sweetly. "Sometimes I wonder what it's like out there. There's got to be something more than this."

"Okay then, Little Mermaid," he teased, earning a glare. "If you want to go out there so much, why don't you just ask Roger? We're allowed to leave, you know."

I felt a blush rise to my cheeks, and turned away from him, seeing his face fall from the corner of my eye. "Oh my god… You didn't know, did you?"

"Shut up."

"You didn't know we could leave!"

"Shut _up_." He burst into laughter, crossing his arms over his stomach as he dissolved into his fit. I gritted my teeth angrily and snatched his Game Boy, putting an immediate end to his giggling. His face grew deathly serious as I hovered over the off switch.

"Lucky, don't you da-" I flicked the game off, sticking my tongue out at him and diving towards the door. "I'll kill you!"

He crouched on his bed and launched himself at me, taking me to the floor just as I reached for the doorknob.

* * *

Hooray for time skips! Again, there were some things that I couldn't tease all the way out, but overall, I'm really happy with this chapter! The next one is in the works and should be up soon, too, so I'm also happy with the progress that I'm making with this story. And then there's you guys! I know I'm getting a little ahead of myself to be happy with six reviews, but I'm so excited that I've received six reviews, so thank you so much for that! I hope that you guys continue reading and liking this story!

Love,

Marie.


	5. Headache

"This is so exciting!" I said, pressing my nose to the window. Behind me, my friends let out a chorus of different responses.

"I still can't believe that you didn't kn-"

"We're _not _talking about that!" I interrupted, glaring at Matt, who only grinned into the rearview mirror. "Don't ruin this for me!"

"Fine, fine," he said, holding up a hand in surrender. "As long as we go to the game store, my lips are sealed."

"Then we'll go there first."

I scrambled out of the car once the brunet had parked it, bouncing on the balls of my feet. I tried to contain my excitement as we made our way to the nearest main street.

It was lined with small brick buildings, all sporting elaborate signs: "The Black Rat" and "Cadogen & Co." and "Justice and Loot." The façades were crumbling but sealed, hiding the goods of each store from me. Strings of flags hung overhead, crossing over the street to form a sort of zigzag down the road. The blacktop was damp and foggy and the sky was blanketed with clouds. From where we stood, I could see the epic white cathedral I'd passed on my way to the orphanage years ago. It was the most exciting thing about the town.

My shoulders, initially stiff with joy, relaxed completely. As I lifted the hood of my raincoat, I felt Matt's hand on my shoulder.

"Disappointed, huh?" He asked. I bit my lip.

"This isn't Gujarat," I mumbled. "I don't know what I was expecting."

"We all were a bit the first time we saw it," He whispered, leaning in closer to me as we walked. "You get used to it."

I gave him a confused look. "Used to what?"

"Disappointment."

"Why should we get used to disappointment?" I asked in disbelief, watching Mello hurry to get in front of us. I assumed that Beyond trailed somewhere behind.

"We're orphans, Lucky," he explained. "Our lives are _full _of disappointment. The more used to it we are, the less it hurts."

"I don't _want _to be used to it, Matt," I said, clenching my fists. "We deserve happiness, too."

"But it's rare that we get it."

"Well, I'm going to get it," I said resolutely. "I know that the Goddess will lead me to it."

He said nothing and withdrew his hand from my shoulder, opening the door to the building on our left. As we filed in, he appeared to be contemplating something; the look stayed on his face as we began to wander about.

"Hey Matt!" A feminine voice called. "Long time no see."

Curiously, I backed out of the aisle I'd just turned into, watching as the girl behind the counter leaned over it to talk to my brunet friend.

She was tall and willowy, with chin-length blonde hair and narrow gray eyes. Dressed in a fitted, green-lace top and a black skirt that hit mid-thigh, she managed to reveal everything in a classy way. She rested delicately on her elbows and pressed her biceps inwards, accentuating her breasts. I frowned, immediately realizing what she was up to.

"Oh, hey Sadie," Matt said, stepping right up to her.

"What's been keeping you away?" She asked. Matt shrugged.

"Been working through what I've already got."

"Too busy to pay me a visit?"

"A little." The girl's look soured slightly, but she hid it. Matt didn't seem to notice. "Miss me?"

I felt a small, unexplained pang in my chest when he asked that question, watching as the blonde brushed her bangs out of her face. A few stray strands stuck to her glossy lips as she did.

"Of course I did," she responded with a ditzy chuckle. "Who was the girl that came in with you?"

I didn't miss the bitterness in her voice, and neither did Matt.

"Lucky," he answered. I pretended to busy myself with a stack of magazines, even more interested now that my name had been brought up.

"I'd never expect you to hang around such a dowdy little thing." I immediately looked down at my clothes, feeling suddenly insecure in my old jeans and black sweater. Had this blue rain coat always looked so dingy? I scowled and bit down hard on my tongue.

_I'll show you dowdy_, I thought angrily, longing for access to my closet in Gujarat. _Bratty little_-

"Don't insult her," Matt said seriously, stepping away from the girl, who promptly frowned.

"You're a little touchy," she spat. "Is she important?"

"More important than you'll ever be."

"Oh, _please_," she scoffed, rolling her eyes. "I've got a modeling contract and a millionaire dad. With a face like that, she probably works in the sewers. What, was she born to a gremlin and a troll? I bet…"

As she continued, I made my way silently to the door, hoping to escape without anyone noticing, but the bell dinged. I felt all eyes on me as I pried it open and bolted out into the rain.

"Lucky, wait!" Matt called, his voice fading as I ran. I wove through the streets, my teeth sinking deeper into my tongue. I hadn't done anything to elicit such abuse from the girl; were there really such spiteful people out there?

I stopped paying attention to where I was going as I thought about her demeanor; after a few minutes, I slammed into someone, and looked up at the person from the ground. To my relief, it was Beyond.

"Hey," he said quietly, offering his hand. I took it and he pulled me up. I returned the greeting as I looked around, realizing that we were in some sort of dingy backstreet. A group of men stood a few feet away, talking and smoking cigarettes.

"What are you doing here?" I asked quietly.

For a long moment, he stared over me, as if he was studying something above my head. I watched as his lips slowly turned up at the edges, and waved my hand in front of his face to regain his attention. He bit his lip, still grinning, and pulled his jam jar from his pocket.

"Just ended up here," he answered finally, unscrewing the cap. "It's not so bad."

"It creeps me out," I said, shivering as I caught a couple men eyeing me. "Let's go."

"Mm…" He muttered, looking over me again. "Not yet."

He turned away from me and dipped his hand into the preserves. I rolled my eyes.

"Well, I'm not staying here." I muttered, beginning to leave.

I'd only taken a few steps towards the mouth of the alley when I felt a hand on my backside. Angrily, I whirled around and grabbed the perpetrator's wrist: it belonged to a tall, swarthy man in a gray sweater. He sported an oily smirk and I scowled, digging my nails into his skin.

"Did I say you could touch me?" I growled, my scowl deepening as his smirk grew.

"Come on princess," he said. "Don't act like you didn't like it."

"About as much as I like getting my teeth pulled," I retorted, throwing his wrist. He grabbed my arm as I turned to go and pulled me back.

"Where d'you think you're going?" His breath reeked of something sharp and sour, surrounding me as I tried to twist from his grasp.

"Away from you, _khota_."

"Why don't I show you some things instead?" He wrapped an arm around my waist and I pushed against his chest.

"Let me go!"

"Aww, come on princess," he squeezed my ass again. "I'll make you feel-"

I swung at him, the sharp crack of my hand on his cheek cutting him off.

"Show some respect!" I shouted, matching the glare he cast.

"You've got some nerve, little bitch!" He yelled, grabbing my face. His fingers dug into my cheeks.

"_Chor!_" I gurgled through his grip. "_Chor, haraami!_"

He bashed my head into the brick wall behind me, moving his hand to my throat. Weakness pulsed through me on impact and my knees gave out. He lifted me effortlessly off of the ground and pinned me to the wall, crushing my wind pipe.

"_Chor,_" I rasped, clawing at his thick arm. My lips grew cold and my vision hazy at the edges as he suffocated me. "_Chor…_"

Everything swam as I glanced over his shoulder; Beyond stood nearby, licking jam off of his hands and watching the scene intently. I felt a tear slip down my cheek, wondering why he hadn't moved to help me.

"Beyond, where's- GET THE FUCK OFF OF HER!" Mello's voice, watery in my delirium, met my ears, and the man's grip disappeared. I crashed to the ground, sputtering; my lungs burned as I tried to recover. I felt someone drop down next to me as I gasped for air and clambered away, afraid. I panicked even further when the person grabbed my arm.

"Lucky, calm- Lucky, calm down! It's me!" I looked up to see Matt holding on to me. He rubbed my back, trying to help me breathe, but my vision continued to tunnel. A fearful look crossed his face just before the blackness sucked him into a pinpoint a long way away from me. Then he was gone altogether.

* * *

"How's she doing?"

"Shh, you'll wake her up."

"She's been out for a while…"

"I know," a sigh. "She'll come to when she's supposed to."

The pounding of my brain was almost unbearable; with each pulse of my heart, I felt it freshly, like someone was slamming an ax repeatedly into my skull. I whimpered and reached up, cradling my head.

"What happened," I murmured, keeping my eyes shut. The people in the room gave simultaneous, relieved groans, and I cringed at the thud my head responded with.

"Some guy throttled you in an alley," a voice came. I tried to place it as the person sat beside me, causing the ground beneath me to shift. The memory of the event came hazily back to me.

"My head hurts," I whispered, suddenly feeling a separate ache. "And my throat…"

"He did a number on you before we got there." A second voice added. I heard the familiar snapping of a chocolate bar.

"Yeah, he fucked you up pretty bad, Lu-" the first voice was interrupted by the sound of the door opening; I felt the person stand tersely. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

My head throbbed at the shout and I covered my ears, feeling tension seep into the air. I struggled to open my eyes.

"I came to see her." That voice was unmistakably Beyond. I heard footsteps; my eyelids fluttered as the tension spiked.

"You don't get to see her, you fucking psycho!" There was a dull thump, then another, and another. I felt my eyes rolling as I frantically tried to get them open.

"You let that bastard touch her!" _Thump._

"Not exactly." _Thump._

"You didn't even fucking try to stop him!" _Thump._

"It's not _my _fault she attracted him." _Thump._

"_I'll fucking kill you!_" _  
_

I finally forced my eyes to stay open, expecting to see Mello, red and angry, pulverizing the raven-haired genius.

It shocked me when my eyes fell on Matt, mid-punch.

His fist connected with Beyond's cheek and Beyond returned it, clipping the brunet's jaw. I scowled and forced myself up, ignoring the pounds of protest that my head put forth.

"Stop," I slurred, pushing Mello's assistive hands away from me. "Stop!"

They froze and looked at me, hands grasping each other's shirts, fists raised. Matt's lip was busted and Beyond's eye was already starting to turn purple.

"What are you doing?" I asked, swaying slightly. They broke into loud explanations and I winced at the agonizing ache in my skull. "Shut up!"

The pain of the shout made my knees weak, and my hands flew to my head as they gave out. I felt someone grab me before I hit the ground and looked up, biting my lip as Mello set me back on my bed.

"Thanks," I whispered. He nodded to acknowledge me and I returned to glaring.

"Let go," I commanded, watching as they dropped each other's shirts. "This better not happen ag-"

"But he just stood there whi-"

"I didn't need him to protect me, Matt," I countered severely. "It's not his job."

Beyond scoffed at my initial statement, and I turned my glare on him. "_Aur tum, svarthi kutta, _shame on you. You shouldhave helped me."

He gazed blankly at me, void of the shameful expression Matt sported. He blinked and I saw something unfamiliar flit across his eyes, but it was gone before I could fully digest it.

"Don't _ever_ fight in this room again, got it? You're polluting my prayer space; have some respect." They both nodded grudgingly and I tilted my head towards the door. "Now get out."

"But-"

"Get out!" My head pulsed again and I regretted screaming. They took the tension with them as they left the room.

I laid back down, clutching my head. From the end of my bed, Mello touched my feet sympathetically.

"I was surprised that Matt was the one fighting," I said. He offered me a square of chocolate and I popped it into my mouth.

"Believe me, I wanted to bash his face in," he said, snapping off a piece for himself. "But I didn't want to upset you."

"Really?" I asked, narrowing my eyes suspiciously. "Do you… Fancy… Me?"

"Pffft, not even close," he said, grinning. "Are you losing your magic touch there, Freud?"

"Hey, I've suffered a head injury, give me a break." We chuckled softly before lapsing into a comfortable silence, and he flopped down on his back.

"I think of you as a sister," he said, looking over at me. "You know that, right?"

"That was my next guess," I giggled as he playfully shoved me. "Did you mess that guy up?"

"I did that nose thing we saw in that one stupid movie you made us watch."

"That movie wasn't stupid!"

"The nose thing saved it a little bit."

"But the characters-"

"Were all really, truly fucked up, Lucky," his face screwed up as he thought about his next words. "You know, for someone who's so good at reading people, you are absolutely terrible at understanding evil."

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Am not."

"I _am not_ doing this," he mocked, getting off of my bed. He looked down at me as he stretched. "You're too sweet for this orphanage. It might eat you up."

"You're underestimating me. You always underestimate me." I crossed my arms and he chuckled at the childish gesture, crouching down next to me.

"Why do you keep fighting if you don't even want to succeed L?" He asked, catching me off guard. I bit my lip as I pondered my response.

"In life, we're always fighting for something," I explained lightly. "We always need to be fighting. It gives us purpose. If this is my current battle, then I'm meant to conquer it. I'm meant to learn something from it."

"What makes you so sure?"

"The Goddess does nothing without reason, Mello," I said. "If I'm here, there has to be a reason."

* * *

Chapter five folks! I'm really happy with this one, I think I packed in everything I wanted to in a fairly smooth way! I hope everyone reading is enjoying this, because for once I'm actually having a really good time writing (as opposed to dreading each chapter). The next chapter is in the works and should be up fairly soon! And, as always, reviews are much appreciated!

Love,

Marie.

notes:

_khota_: donkey

_chor_: let go

_haraami_: bastard

_Aur tum, svarthi kutta_: And you, selfish dog

p.s. I want to apologize for the terrible summary! I've been meaning to for a while but I just keep forgetting. I REALLY suck at summarizing things, and I tried so hard to find something interesting or captivating, but I gave up after literally writing it out twenty different ways. I figured I'd let the story make up for how terrible it was and maybe change it when I got farther into the story! Forgive me!


	6. Prayer

"I really hope this heals soon…"

Seated at my desk, I held a mirror and looked over my injuries.

It was as if some huge animal had left its paw print on my throat. In the center was a thick purple bruise, and the blotchy blues of a thumb and fingers wrapped around my neck.

_Like a bruise noose,_ I thought, running my fingertips over the mottled shapes. I shuddered at the contact, and my breath hitched as memories of the event flashed through my head. My hand lingered as my mind wandered off.

_What is it about me that attracts such violence? I'm small, and my hair's a mess. I don't really dress nicely. Do I have a scent or mark on me? Is it the bindi? It's not obnoxious… Could a little red dot really insight such anger in-_

"How are you doing?" I let out a gasp and dropped the mirror, frightened by the sudden voice. I put a hand over my heart.

"Make a noise next time," I said, glaring as Matt leaned against the desk. He chuckled. "You're going to give me a heart attack one day."

"I tend to have that effect," he teased, picking up the mirror. I rolled my eyes. "Why'd you leave the game store?"

"Are you dumb?" I asked, my face screwing up in disbelief as he set the mirror on the desk. "I wasn't just going to sit there while that… _rundi _tore into me. I have some dignity."

"Yeah, but you don't normally run away from stuff like that," he pointed out. I scowled. "Come on, Lucky. What's wrong?"

"It's nothing," I replied, looking away from him. He shifted so that he was in my line of sight.

"It's obviously not nothing."

"Yeah it is."

"No, it's not."

"It hurt, Matt," I snapped. "It hurt! I didn't do anything to her! And she treated me like I was the scum of the earth!"

I looked down to hide my newly teary eyes and clenched my fists. "I didn't know that people could be like that. I didn't know people could be so… Hurtful. And with no reason."

"… I'm sorry," he said softly, taken aback. "I didn't know she had a cruel side."

"It seems like you know her pretty well," I muttered, regretting it as I saw his eyes narrow.

"She has a thing for me," he said suspiciously.

"A blind man could've seen that," I spat. Realization bloomed on his face and he smirked.

"Are you _jealous_?" He asked.

"What? N-no!" I cursed the small stutter in my voice, watching as his smirk turned into a cocky, full-blown smile.

"You are!" He said, laughing. I crossed my arms over my chest and looked away from him, trying to stifle the blush that rose to my cheeks. "You're jealous that she was hitting on me!"

"Shut _up_." I hissed, grinding my teeth. "Shut _up_, Matt."

"Well, I can see why, I mean, look at me!" He continued. "I'm practically a lady killer. Who wouldn't want a piece of me? I-"

"Get out!" I shouted, standing up. His eyes widened at my outburst.

"L-lucky, I'm just-"

"It's not enough for you that she humiliated me? Now you're going to?" I pushed him towards the door, watching as he scowled. "Get out!"

"Lucky, stop!" He cried, grabbing my wrists. "I'm just teasing you!"

I struggled against his grip as he continued. "I wouldn't let anyone humiliate you, let alone do it myself! I'd protect your honor with my life, you should know that!"

I stopped suddenly, looking up at him. "You would?"

"Of course, dumby," he said, not letting go of my wrists. "You're my best friend; do you think I'd ever let anyone hurt you?"

He sighed at my silence and pulled me to him, wrapping his arms around me. I tensed at the sudden contact; he'd never hugged me before.

"Lucky, you're like… A deep. That's what you call it, right? The little lamp? You're like that. You're… Light." He said wistfully, resting his chin on my head. "You're more important than some blonde bimbo could ever be."

"… Am I dowdy?"

"What?"

"Dowdy. Shabby. _Plain_."

"Are you _blind_?" He asked. "Lucky, you're a diamond in this fucking coal mine. Your heart's golden and pure and that shows on the surface. And sometimes, when you get excited, your eyes get really sparkly and bright and…"

He pulled away from me and brushed a loose piece of hair out of my face, smiling. "You're just the most extraordinary girl in the universe."

I bit my lip, smiling at his sweet words. Our eyes locked when I looked up to thank him, and I felt my heart sputter.

Matt had been a fluffy kid; with round cheeks and a little extra chub all over, he contrasted greatly with Mello, who was forever lean and lanky. Yet, as I looked at him now, he was anything but fluffy: his face was chiseled and his jaw was strong, and I was almost completely sure that there was no little belly underneath his striped shirt.

When had he grown up?

He seemed to realize something as well, as his hand immediately dropped from my ear. We pulled away simultaneously and he cleared his throat.

"So, yeah…" He said, scratching his head. I grinned and clasped my hands.

"Can I ask you something?"

"S-sure…" He stuttered. I was surprised at his lack of sarcasm.

"Will you pray with me?" He looked shocked at the question, but also a bit relieved, and I wasn't sure why.

"Are you sure? I mean, I'm not-"

"You don't have to be Hindu," I said. He looked down.

"… I don't believe in God at all, Lucky," he said quietly. "I'm an atheist."

I tilted my head. "That's alright."

He peered up at me in confusion. "What?"

"I'm not asking you to adopt my religion, Matt," I answered with a giggle. "I'm just asking you to… Accompany me."

He contemplated the offer for a moment, his scrutinizing gaze wavering when he observed my hopeful look. He sighed. "Alright."

"Good. Now go shower," I said, pushing him from my room. "And put on clean clothes."

* * *

When I got back to Lucky's room, she was crouched in front of her shrine, wrapped in a tangerine-colored shawl. I knocked on the door and she turned, smiling when she saw me. She got up as I entered and held out a white cloth.

"Here," she said. "Put this on."

"… On where?" I asked, confused. She giggled.

"On your head," she explained. "You need to cover your hair."

With a sigh, I obliged her, kneeling next to her once I had finished.

As I watched her perform her rituals, I felt tranquility slowly wash over me. In my mind's eye, I laid back on a warm beach and the tide came in around me, pulling me into the sea. The salty water embraced me and filled my ears and heart and I felt so calm that my heartbeat slowed to a point where I thought it might stop altogether.

I felt a presence looming above me and looked up, meeting a watery vision of Lucky's female idol. She smiled down at me from her seat on a lion's back and reached out, placing her hand on my soaking hair. On contact, something immense and powerful surged through me, and suddenly she was gone.

"Matt…" The sky, warm and glowing above me, warped at the voice. "Matt!"

With a jolt, I was pulled back into Lucky's room. Beside me, she circled a metal tray and fanned incense in my direction. Then, she dipped her thumb into the little bowl of red powder and smeared it onto my forehead.

"What is this?" I asked, reaching up to touch it. She grabbed my wrist.

"Tilaka," she said, pushing down my hand. "It's a mark of honor."

I felt something stutter in my chest at the look she gave me then, and quietly pointed to her forehead. She grinned and shook her head.

"No, mine's called a bindi, it's-"

"I hope I'm not interrupting," our heads snapped to the doorway at the voice. Watari smiled as he looked over us, and I felt my face heat up.

"Not at all," Lucky said, setting the tray down. She blew out the deep and stood, making her way towards the old man. I gently pulled the cloth from my head and followed her.

"Since your birthday is approaching," he said. "I have an early gift for you."

He pulled a white-wrapped box from behind his back and offered it to her with a smile. She looked tentatively at him and he pushed it into her hands.

"Go on, open it," he said, chuckling at her examination of the box. She nodded absently and began to rip apart the wrapping. It fell in shreds to the floor, revealing a white cardboard box; she opened it and donned a stunned expression.

"Is this…" Watari nodded at her and she withdrew the contents. In her hands was some sort of white shirt and what appeared to be a white tent. She smoothed them out and held them against her, and I realized that it was some sort of outfit. "But I don't really need-"

"Tomorrow," he interjected, "I've got some business to take care of in London. Since the drive is rather lonely, and considering I'll be there almost all day, I figured that you and your friends could accompany me."

At her confused look, he grinned. "And, our route to my errands, we happen to pass by the Neasden Temple."

Her hands flew to her mouth, and that familiar sparkling bloomed in her lovely eyes. "D… D-d-d… D…"

I burst into her laughter at her shocked stuttering, but she ignored me, instead dropping to her knees and touching Watari's shoes with both of her hands. He put a kind hand on her shoulder and she looked up at him. Her eyes were teary but joyful.

"We're leaving at eight sharp," he said, stepping out of the room. "Be ready at the door by seven fifty-five!"

She stayed on the ground and I continued laughing for a while, and once I'd calmed down, she looked at me; she was sporting the biggest smile I'd ever seen, and the light in her teary eyes almost blinded me. She shot up and into me, practically choking me as she hung off my back and screamed with joy.

"I'm going to temple!" She shouted. "I'm going to temple!"

"I can't breathe!"

* * *

Chapter six! This chapter needs SO much work, but I've been working on it for a long time and I can't seem to make a version that I'm completely happy with, so I'm just going to throw this out there in order to keep moving forward. It's not terrible, but it definitely could've been better (and longer, I'm sorry about the length!). Thank you guys so so so so so so so so much for waiting for it! I've been really busy with school, as the year is winding down, so I haven't been focusing on this at all, but now that summer's here I intend for the updates to be much more frequent. As always, let me know what you think about this chapter (especially because I don't think very highly of it)!

notes:

rundi: whore


End file.
